


Proper utilisation

by Radamanth_Nemes



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, possible ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:53:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radamanth_Nemes/pseuds/Radamanth_Nemes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor may not have a lot of imagination when it comes to creation, but he had always been deft with his hammer. And sometimes you just have to give your younger brother a proper lesson.<br/>Totally pwp smut with no value whatsoever. And don’t ask me what the hell is going on. It’s not supposed to make sense. And let’s say, these are imaginary events before the Thor movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper utilisation

They were at it for hours. Loki usually refused to spar with Thor, but today was different. He was cross with his older brother for one reason or another and welcomed the invitation. In the beginning Thor had some problems keeping up with his brother’s magic, but after some time he got used to it. Now the odds were on his side, and he was dictating the pace of the fight. Both of them were clearly exhausted, and the younger brother, who was more of a stay-inside-read-a-book type of person, was obviously more tired.

Reaching his limit Loki was getting desperate, deciding to use the latest trick he had learned from his magic books. With a subtle hand movement his figure quavered, then expanded, producing false images of him.

_One, two, three, four, five, six…_  Thor counted. Initially confused he watched the dark haired clones of his brother smiling victoriously at him, ready to strike. However, due to low stamina and not enough practice, the clones were not as solid as they were supposed to be. The taller man had no trouble figuring out which one was the real one.

He threw his hammer in the air – it hit its target. Loki fell on the ground, the clones disappeared and Thor had won.

Loki was on the ground breathing heavily, angry and defeated. His older brother approached him with a stretched out hand and said,

“It was a good fight brother.” The dark haired man slapped the out stretched hand and stared at the other, frustrated.

“If I had practised it, it would not have been so easy for you.”

Annoyance spread over Thor’s face. Loki was always difficult with accepting defeat. He was even worse with accepting help from others. It is not possible to be the winner all the time, and the younger brother needed to be taught a lesson.

Without much thought, he placed the hammer on the other’s chest, making it impossible for Loki to get up, knowing no one beside him can lift it.

“What are you doing?” The dark haired man asked sharply. His hair was a mess, falling over the sweaty forehead, eyes cold, demanding for an answer.

“Something an older brother should teach his younger one. How to deal with defeat.”

Thor straddled him, setting on the other’s pelvis. He had a serious expression on his face, like a child doing something complicated for the first time. Brows furrowed in concentration, the taller man pushed his blond hair back with his left hand, sweat gluing it to the scalp.

Loki started demanding to be released, kicking his brother with his feet, trying to grab him with his hands. Thor removed his belt and with one quick, precise movement subdued his brother’s hands.

“What is this? Is this lesson about how the defeated ones become slaves?” Loki snorted. There were no slaves in Asgard, and both of them knew that.

Thor ignored him. A thought flashed through his head; maybe he should gag Loki’s mouth, but curiosity got the best of him – he wanted to hear, to know what the other one will say.

The taller man moved lower, placing his weight on the other’s knees. His younger brother was now completely immobile. Loki was laughing almost hysterically, but Thor’s sudden movement put him abate; he undid his pants, lowered them, setting his head so close, Loki could feel the other’s breath on his crotch.

All retorts, questions and curses turned into a surprised whimper when he felt his older brother’s mouth around his cock. Although he was not aroused, his body reacted to the touch, blood rushing down, reaching an erection. Thor’s tongue was not as soft nor playful as a women’s is, it was rough and clumsy.

Loki heard when the other undid his pants, soft motion of fabric. He yelled and screamed, but could not move and it was getting hard for him to breathe; the pressure of his brother’s body, and the hammer on his chest. The protest turned into agony and cries when he felt the pain, forceful entry of another’s flesh in him.

The distraction of getting at least some pleasure vanished, his member was getting soft. Thor was too preoccupied with his own pleasure to notice anything else. He was always like that, getting too immersed into battle, fights, meals, women, forgetting about everything except indulging himself.

The older man was taking his time, every thrust slow and painful.

“It hurts. Do you really want to hear me plea,  _brother_?” Loki’s voice was full of sorrow, but his words seemed to have an impact. Like he was suddenly awoken, Thor looked at his brother; sprawled on the floor, gasping for air, eyes wide and teary, messy clothes, damp dark hair, lips swollen.

He had to admit, it is an every man’s kink, to defile something, and the sight of the same, beneath him, in  _his_  mercy was even better than spoils of war.

Quickening his pace, Thor palmed the other man’s cock. Light jolts of pleasure travelled through Loki’s spine, but the pain did not go away. It became more difficult for him to breathe now he had an erection again. Thrust by thrust he was getting more accustomed to the uncomfortable feeling. He decided to remember every single moment of it, of how his brother had defiled him, hurt him, spread his legs like he was some cheep wench. How he diminished him.

Deciding that, Loki let his mind fade. He will have his revenge and it will have a blasting effect. As for now, this moment, he allowed his body to give in to the urges and reflexes.

With his rough and big hand, Thor was pumping his younger brother’s cock. His blunt fingers felt rough without any lubrication to ease the movement. From time to time he accidentally brushed his fingers on a sensitive spot, like the one around the head, or that vein below. Unfortunately, Thor did not have such luck finding Loki’s prostate, and his younger brother was left feeling a not so comfortable fullness.

He was reaching an orgasm and started to pump the other man’s cock faster, his hips following the rhythm. Small, rapid breaths escaped the dark haired man’s mouth, soft sounds so wrong, and yet so fitting. Thor spilled himself inside of Loki, eyes shut tight, groaning. He was still slowly moving in and out, even though he came. Moments after, with a whiff, Loki came over his brother’s hand, their clothes and the hammer on his chest.

They lay there still, not able to move. Regaining his posture, Thor pulled out, his fluids flowing out of the dark haired man. He buttoned up his pants, got up and took his hammer, stretching out a hand,

“Now, will you accept my help to get up?”

_Revenge. Revenge is a dish best served cold._ Loki took the out stretched hand.

 


End file.
